WerewolfButcher

I’m not impressive. I am no marvel to mankind. I am the furthest thing from your bonds of reality and no matter how many times you tell me I am special, The feeling will always cease immediately. I do not accept compliments from those who do not appreciate me, And I will not bend and tell you “okay you’re right, I’m incredible.” Because no matter how many times you tell me I’m special, I’m different, I’m unique, They mean nothing to me. Because until I admit that feeling to myself your sweet coos of importance, Your encouraging words of forever, Your sickly sugary honey smothered words Taste of

There's something about abandoned houses. Some secret, all-knowing silence that every single one carries with a reserved and quiet nature as they rot silently in their solid foundations. Something pulls me towards these wrecked homes, these buildings once filled with warm bodies. They're now fortresses condemned to solitude, only to be admired from afar. The doors and windows are boarded shut, as if a solemn reminder that broken abodes are a forbidden land, a dangerous area ripe with desecration and collapse. However, something beyond the nails and plywood it is beckoning me. It's inviting me to explore a land unknown to many, many too sc